


Lost

by hobovampyre



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, forgiven!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 13:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobovampyre/pseuds/hobovampyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world always seemed hottest when he was at his lowest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost

The world always seemed hottest when he was at his lowest. A searing, acrid heat that clung to his skin drawing sweat from every pore of his distended body. Every gasp was the equivalent to breathing fire. Every thought like walking through molten rock. But he would still not give in. Not in one year. Two years. Fifty years. One hundred years.

"Sweet child...look at you." 

Sam closed his eyes to the voice that both spoke to him and through him. The voice that never left, that never slept. Along with the other voice that no longer spoke, no longer existed.

"My sweet, sweet Samuel...it hurts me so to watch you suffer, but...naughty boys must learn to cooperate.."

Cooperate. Yes, that's what he wanted. To cooperate. But it had taken Sam years to even understand what he was supposed to be cooperating to. He had no vessel to possess so there was little reason to ask for a yes anymore. A soul with barely any semblance of a man was all that remained, tortured and pulled apart day and day out when the light of the sky never changed. What could the Devil possibly want from such a small, petty existence as that?

His voice was gone, cut short by decades of screaming, of crying, of yelling. His body, however, never stopped feeling. A cut to the soul is nothing like a cut to the skin where pain can be channeled away and a peace brought forth from your center. The soul was center and it went no deeper than that. So what can be done when your center is that which is being cut? All that can be done is to cry and wait for it to stop. If it ever stops.

A frozen hand on his thigh, pushing it up against the corporeal image of his chest and he held his breath yet again and something wet and equally icy wormed its way to the very heart of his soul. Gasping for air he didn't need, burning when it filled the memory of his lungs.

"You know what I ask..and it offers peace, child. Just one..small thing and you will know eternal peace."

Sam detested how he need not use his mouth to speak and his body pulled against the chains embedding into the thought of his flesh. Each slide of each link causing the holes in his body to blister and rip, healing themselves just as quickly so they may be torn anew. A crown of barbed metal bled into his skull and his mouth never stopped tasting of copper and ash. Every moment was a dagger in his soul and yet he refused. It hurt, oh merciless God it brought him to tears and gasps but he would not give in. "N....o..." More a wheeze then an actual word, but by the sudden thrust of his body into the air, his mouth hung slack with shock and agony, he knew it was the incorrect answer. 

There was no reproach. There never was. He never told Sam of his disappointment because why speak when you can show? Why talk when you can scar a soul into submission?

"Why do you resist me so?"

Green eyes opened, staring at walls of smokey red and he blinked in surprise. Lucifer never spoke when he refused. Why change that now?

"I offer you a realm of safety and solace, you inconsequential..." Sam strained his ears and he could hear the definitive attempt to hold his tongue. "...I am giving you a chance to bear the rest of your sentence devoid of my influence. Yet you resist. Why? Speak."

His body first went slack, broken and bleeding but his voice was renewed to where it hurt more not to speak. "Because you are the Father of Lies, you son of a bitch."

"Ah, words. Such harsh words. But no, Sam, that is a name your ancestors placed upon my head, I never claimed it for my own. And why would I lie? Michael, look to him and tell him I speak the truth." Sam waited as usual for a voice that never came. A voice he never forgot was always there watching, watching what he allowed to happen. 

"...he does not lie, Sam. He hides the whole truth, but of what he does speak of, he does not lie." Again, talking where for centuries there was none. What madness is this that things were to suddenly change? Why?

"See? Even dear lame brother has vouched for me. Now will you listen? And cooperate?"

"What exactly are you wanting from me."

"You know, Sammy. You know. Just a few words...a few little words in a language you don't understand.." And what Sam heard next he truly did not understand. Harsh and beautiful all at once, a lilting sibilance until English broke through, "...and then you just open your mouth..yes.." Something cold, freezing shattered his tongue and sent his body into spasms, confused and dazed for he had no conceded to this..or had he? Did he give in without realizing it? The brief moment of reprieve fooling his senses, dropping his guard? The shaking rocked his body against the chains, the whips, the barbed wires and the serrated strips of clothed wrapped tight around his soul.

Then the pain ceased and his back was against a hard surface, his eyes staring up into a sky of nothing but fear and sorrow. "Sweet Sam..good...I will see you later...my guess, somewhere close to Death, I think."  
No thoughts, no feelings. Nothing but nothing. On his back, eyes open, dead for a second time. Dead for eternity. 

Until the light.


End file.
